


Demon in Disguise of a Big Brother

by Freckles_And_Dimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absent John Winchester, Alternate Universe, Brotherly Affection, Comic, Dean Winchester Talks Dirty, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon!Dean, Digital Art, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Hate to Love, M/M, Nothing sexual happens until Sam is 17, POV Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Stockholm Syndrome, Switching, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Unrelated Winchesters (Supernatural), Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckles_And_Dimples/pseuds/Freckles_And_Dimples
Summary: John captured a demon for questioning when his wife died in a strange fire caused by supernatural forces. He hid him in his basement for weeks and tried to find out all his secrets, but after days of various practices of torture and punishment, everything went wrong. The demon freed himself from his chains and the trap that held him captive. He took revenge for the damage inflicted before the hunter could chain him again, and not knowing what to do with the scared little boy who had witnessed it all, he forced him to go with him.This is how the intense story of Sam Winchester and Dean began. A demon raising a boy as if he were his own little brother. The one he never asked for, the one he never expected to have.Dean was sadistic, cruel, and inhuman, but Sam Winchester was cheerful, kind, and brave. Can a twisted soul be better for someone to whom he owes his life? Can a pure heart see the good in a Knight of Hell?This is the story of Sam growing up with a demon in disguise of a big brother. The story of his childhood, his joys and his sorrows. The story of how little by little he fell in love with someone who practically raised him.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Other(s), Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Other(s)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 127





	1. The first time I saw him

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sam & Dean : Never Forget You (Wincest)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/689260) by brendazacian. 



> This story will be originally a webcomic (still working on it) and an ask blog on tumblr. 
> 
> What is an ask blog?  
> An ask blog is an interactive roleplayer blog based on a character’s perspectives. The roleplayer (me) responds to questions asked by readers (you) in text or artwork in first-person narrative (in-character). 
> 
> I put a lot of tags here but that will happen as I update the chapters and the story progresses. I'm sorry for any typo, English is not my first language and for that I want to thank @DeansBonnieSammysClyde for helping me with corrections and editing. Thank you so so much!
> 
> Other warnings:
> 
> -Nothing sexual will happen while Sam is a kid, but there'll be unrequited love and unresolved sexual tension with teenage Sam and Dean, so... underage warning.  
> -Short chapters.  
> -Work in progress. Slow updates.  
> -Switching Sam and Dean (when that happens)

_** SAM, PRESENT DAY. ** _

When I was little, Dad, Mom, and I lived in a nice house outside of Lawrence, Kansas.

Everything was perfect. I went to school, had friends and even had a dog. His name was Bones. I was 6 years old, so... don't judge me for my lack of creativity.

My life was simple and happy then, but suddenly, one day everything changed with a strange event and my world fell apart at my feet.

When I turned 10 my mom died in a fire and my happy little family was broken forever. Dad became another person, a dark, lonely and unrecognizable being. A completely broken man trying to endure the grief of losing his wife, his soul mate. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol and neglected me so much that the child protective services threatened him to take me with them several times. Dad promised that he would change.

When he regained his strength and his zest for life, we moved to a small cabin in Sioux Falls after spending several months living in different roadside motels. We no longer had a home, no family. We only had each other.

I had to leave my school in Lawrence, my friends and my dog behind. I couldn't understand much at that age, I was only 12 by then, but soon I began to notice certain things that piqued my curiosity. Things that were new in Dad's attitude. He hadn't changed, he had only gotten worse.

There was a basement in the cabin, and John, my dad, began to spend a lot of time there. He told me not to leave my room when he was not there, to do my homework so that I wouldn’t forget what I’d learned in school and to be an obedient son. I listened to him. I was an obedient son.

Sometimes strange men came. They looked like hunters, sloppy appearances and dirty clothes. “They’re my friends,” Dad would tell me, they were his hunting friends. They were always looking for rabbits or deer in the forest ... Although they never came up with anything. I didn't question it again.

Months after weird attitudes, I caught Dad reading some books on exorcisms and spells. He quickly hid them when he noticed that I had snooped in his things. Another day I heard him talking on the phone telling someone that "the demon" was not contributing anything to his investigation, and that he was already getting pissed off trying to get information from him.

A couple of nights later, when he had gone out with his friends again and left me alone in the cabin, I heard some wailing and weak calls for help from the basement, and unable to hold on any longer, I had to go investigate.

Seeing that the door on the living room floor was without the usual padlock and that the light was seeping through the cracks in the wood, I carefully raised the lid and went down the stairs with fearful steps, risking a very probable scolding from my dad when he came back. 

I was strictly forbidden to go down there, and then I understood why.

That… That was the first time I saw him.

The first time his completely black eyes saw me too.

The first time his brow furrowed at my scared boyish gaze, when his smile mocked my innocence.

Those black eyes never left my memories again. And that night, Dean became the demon in disguise of a big brother who never left my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow the story and the webcomic on:
> 
> Tumblr: https://demonindisguise-of-a-bigbrother.tumblr.com/  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/freckleNdimple  
> Twitter 2: https://twitter.com/DeanmonxSam  
> Patreon: https://patreon.com/frecklesanddimples


	2. My Name is Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of this story. Again, infinite thanks to @DeansBonnieSammysClyde for being my beta and helping me edit this fic. ❤ 
> 
> Remember to follow me on:  
> Twitter: @freckleNdimple and @DeanmonxSam  
> Tumblr: demonindisguise-of-a-bigbrother.tumblr.com and frecklesanddimples.tumblr.com  
> Instagram: @freckles.n.dimples
> 
> I can't wait to draw all the answers for today's questions made on the ask blog on tumblr! Ask box is still open ;) ask Sammy or Dean.

June 6, 1995

**Sam (12 years old)**

_“Help! Please!”_

I snap out of my sleep and quickly sit up in bed. My eyes are wide open and my heart is pounding in my chest. Screams… Were those screams?

_"John! Let me out, you son of a bitch!”_

I jump in my bed when I hear that horrible angry scream from somewhere in the cabin again. The voice of a man. A man who is not my dad, not my imagination or just a dream. I'm awake. I'm more than awake and someone is home when Dad said he wouldn't be back until later. He went hunting with his friends and left me alone… With the man who is yelling from somewhere nearby.

_“Let me out! I'll tell you everything, I swear!”_

I get out of my bed and feel the scared beating of my heart echoing in my ears. I must not leave my room. I can’t go to the living room when Dad is away. He always repeats it, it’s the only rule I must obey.

_“Please…”_

Another wail is heard in the distance and I don't realize that I'm already walking barefoot out of my room. Everything is dark. There are no lights on and the little light from the moon that filters through the closed curtains in the room only marks some silhouettes that make me want to go back to the safety of my room. But someone needs help, and the door to my dad's room is open and he's not there. He won't know that I went out and broke his rule. I have to do something for that person who needs my help, that's what Mom always taught me. That’s what I need to do.

My hands shake as I slowly walk down the hall and stick my head into the living room. The room is bathed in twilight, although there is a yellow light that filters through the wood on the floor. The basement door is unlocked… Dad never leaves it unlocked.

What if he came back, I didn't hear him, and now he's in trouble down there? What if the complaints and cries for help are from one of his friends? But... Why are they coming from the basement?

I gulp, nervous and scared and with my gaze fixed on the ground. I walk a few more steps and crouch next to the heavy lid that, seconds after much thought, I lift carefully.

The light blinds me for a moment and makes me squint, but the voice is now clear and all my senses are alert again.

_"John? Dude, I swear, I’ll tell you the truth... Just... Just get this fucking thing off my arm, man! Don’t be dick…”_

Dad is going to kill me.

He’ll beat me when he knows that I disobeyed the only rule that he’s imposed on me and he will surely send me to some orphanage like he told me the last time I pissed him off.

I gently walk down the steps to the basement and try to be brave. I don't want to make any noise. Dad is nowhere to be seen, and neither are any of his friends, but I suddenly stop wide-eyed to see a strange, giant cage with metal bars at the back of the room.

Has he bought an animal? Was that where the strange noises came from?

_But... Animals don't talk, Sam. Don’t be stupid._

I try to duck a bit more but still can't see the inside very well from my position, so, slowly, I take a couple more steps down and stop short. Now I can see boots and jeans-covered legs chained to a chair.

Legs of a man.

My breath catches in my lungs.

I walk down one more step feeling terrified, and my eyes go wide as I see more clearly a man with dark blond hair lifting his head with great effort and then fixing his tired gaze on me.

His gaze…

His eyes…

His eyes are completely black.

I quickly go back up a couple of steps, almost falling awkwardly in the attempt, and he speaks to stop me.

"Hey, hey, kid! Don’t go! Please don’t go!” he begs, and I look at him scared.

I blink a few times in disbelief at what I see and the man no longer has black eyes. His eyes are like mine, normal, human eyes. They are no longer scary. They no longer look like those of a monster from one of my comics.

Without saying anything, the man frowns in confusion and pants like he's been exercising for a long time. He looks so tired. His red shirt looks dirty and he has blood on his jeans. His hair looks messy, so he's definitely been here for a while.

I freeze, sitting on the wooden steps, and neither of us say anything. We just stare at each other in silence... Me, scared and him without a clear expression on his face. When I'm about to run back to the first floor to get to safety again, the strange man smiles at something and cranes his neck a little to lift his head.

"Hi," he whispers and his voice sounds raspy, as if it can barely get out of his throat.

Should I respond to his greeting? It's rude not to... But Dad also taught me not to talk to strangers.

But is he a stranger if he’s in the basement of my house?

"H-hi," I finally say.

The chained man smiles again.

"Are you… John’s son?"

I nod, unable to say anything else. I’m immobile, stuck in my place, just as he’s in his, although I’m not chained.

“Ok, ok. Don't look at me with those puppy eyes,” he laughs. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I can't," he says, trying to move his arms, but the chains on his four limbs prevent him from doing so. "What's your name, kiddo?"

“I’m Sam.”

"Hey, Sam. I'm Dean.” He smiles tiredly and sighs. His looks at me for a few moments and he speaks again. “Where’s your dad, kid?”

"He... He's not here," I answer without hesitation. _Always obey your elders,_ says Dad. "Why... Why are you here? Why are you like this, chained? Did Dad do that to you?” I look at him confused and down another step on the stairs, still sitting on the wood.

"Yeah, well... Your dad likes bondage, he’s into blood play too." The guy snorts, rolling his eyes, and I frown because I don't understand what he's talking about.

“Bondage and blood play?"

“Ok, listen. Can you help me, Sam?" he says, ignoring my question.

“I- I don't know. What do you want?” I look at him fearful of the answer and Dean smiles in a friendly way.

"Your dad left me here and he forgot to untie me.” He moves his arms a little again and I notice that there is a needle stuck in his forearm connected to a tube, just like in hospitals. I wince in pain, looking away, and try to appear brave even though inside I'm still terrified. "I think John forgot we were playing bad cops and tortured demons." He laughs and I look back at him.

Did he say _Demons_?

"I... I can't... He ... He won't let me come here and ..."

"Come on, Sammy… It's easy."

I glare at him at the use of the nickname only Mom used for me and Dean cuts me off before I can tell him anything else.

"I swear, dude. I don't bite. You just have to…"

The noise of Dad's Impala sounds outside the house, interrupting everything, and I jump off the floor.

“Oh, God. He can't know I was here! He’ll kill me.”

"Hey, hey. Don't go... Sam?! Don't you dare leave me!”

“I- I'm sorry…" I hesitate. "If you don't tell him anything... I swear to come tomorrow when he's gone. I'll help you!” I say, not terribly honest, and Dean has his black eyes again.

His glares at me and his threatening facial expression makes me run upstairs. I don't have time to stop and think about anything. I quickly close the lid on the floor, and run into my room, closing the door behind me and throwing myself onto my bed.

Just as I cover my entire body with the sheets and bedding, I hear the front door of the cabin open and  feel Dad's footsteps entering the living room.

I'm shaking. I'm terrified and Dean's eyes pop back into my mind when I close mine. I immediately reopen them trying to make that scary image disappear.

All the loose ends of my secret investigation begin to come together in my head. The exorcisms and spell books that Dad was reading a few weeks ago, that time I overheard him talking about _demons_ and _yellow-eyes monsters_ with his friends, all the times he's made me go fetch firewood in the middle of the night with no explanation, just because he wanted to be alone, all the weird rules to not leaving my room when he's gone. It all makes sense now.

But who is Dean? _What_ is Dean? And what is he doing chained like an animal in the basement?

Why are his eyes black? Why was he _friendly_ with me?

I close my eyes pretending to sleep when Dad opens the door to my room and I try to remain still and calm. After a few seconds, he closes it again without saying anything and I roll over on the bed to look at the ceiling. If Dean tells Dad I came down to the basement to see him, he's going to kill me. For sure this time. He will let the child protection officers take me with them. I don't want to go with them. I don't want Dad to get mad at me.

I just hope Dean believed my lie about saving him tomorrow.


	3. Knight of Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with another chapter of this verse that I'm loving to write. Thanks once again to Judy, @DeansBonnieSammysClyde who has helped me correct my translations and encourage me with her nice comments. Thank you very much, girl. Lots of love for you. 
> 
> Remember to follow me on twitter @freckleNdimple and tumblr demonindisguise-of-a-bigbrother.tumblr.com

****

**June 7, 1995**

**Sam (12 years old)**

Two whole days pass until Dad leaves me home alone again.

This time, he went to town to do grocery shopping for the month. There’s no milk left, no cereals. There are also no fruits or vegetables. Although of course, none of that is what really matters to him  **–** beer is the one thing that really can never be missing from his list.

He left early in the morning, and said that he’d be back late, as he had other business to do in town. Which just meant: Stay in your room, do your homework, eat your cold ready-made lunch that I left on that plate on your desk, and don't go out until I get back.

Before I knew what I discovered two days ago, I would surely have listened to him. I mean, I've been obeying Dad’s rules for more than a year now without questioning anything, but since I learned that there is a supposed demon tied up in the basement of my house that Dad apparently is holding him hostage and caged like an animal, I can't keep obeying those rules.

Anyway, the fear that Dad will find out that I went down there - and that I want to do it again – has made my stomach feel funny, as if it was tight all the time and I could hardly eat anymore.

Dad has noticed that, and thinks I'm sick. “Maybe it's a cold,” he’d said. But I don't feel like that. This is different. I'm scared all the time, tired and on my toes like something bad is going to happen at any moment. I miss going out to play, or talking with other kids. Going to school, running, kicking rocks on the way home. It's lonely living locked up all the time, and boring, very boring.

Since meeting Dean, I’vehardly been able to sleep; I can't even take naps, which is what helped make the days go by quickly before. When I close my eyes to try to do so, my mind is immediately drawn to Dean’s face, and that has me wide awake. But…Is Dean really bad?

He didn't seem to be. He was nice to me… Even if his look scares me like crazy. Am I judging him too fast? The kids at my school used to do that with the weaker or “different" kids. I hated when Jonathan was called a freak, or when girls teased Sophie because of her red hair and freckles. The bullies pushed them away and isolated them just because they were quieter, or shier than the rest. Am I being like those kids? Am I thinking bad of Dean just because he's different?

I've been sitting at the foot of my bed for more than an hour thinking about all these things, looking out the window, watching the blue sky slowly turn to orange. It’s almost seven in the evening, and the summer heat begins to diminish with sunset. Dad hasn't arrived yet. Should I go down to the basement?

Determined, I walk out of my room, feeling unsure about it, but I get to the living room to see that the basement door on the floor is locked this time.

“Oh, come on…” I mutter to myself and bite my inner cheek as I look around. Where could dad keep the keys?

In less than half an hour and after checking every space in the cabin, I find the bunch of keys that he had hidden inside one of his boots in the closet of his room.  ****

With shaking hands, I try fitting all the keys into the padlock until I find the right one. I take a good look at it for a few seconds to remember what it looks like if I want to come back here another time, and I put them back in my jeans pocket.

I open the lid to the floor and gulp nervously at how dark the basement looks this time. For some reason the other night was brighter, less scary. Should I go back?

_Stop_. I have to get to know Dean a little more before I decide if he's good or bad.

Feeling along the wall next to the ladder, I find the switch for the lights and turn them on before starting down the first wooden steps that creak a little under my weight.

_"John?"_

I stop in my tracks when I hear his voice, Dean's voice, and my heart almost rises to my throat with anticipation and fear.

This time his voice is hoarse and he doesn’t sound as tired as last time, although it’s the same tone that I remember, replaying him calling me _Sammy_ over and over in my head. I close my eyes, taking a slow breath and encourage myself to do this. I need to be brave. I want to meet Dean. I don't want to be one of the mean kids at my school.

I have to do this.

"N-no. It's me… Sam,” I say, trying to sound calm as I go down a couple more steps. I stop when I can see the man with green eyes and dark blond hair who’s sitting in the same place as the other night.

Dean is still in the same cage of metal bars. He’s in the chair with his arms and legs tied to it, but without the needle and IV tube stuck in his forearm. This time I also notice that there is a strange drawing on the floor underneath him. I don't think I saw that the last time, or at least I don't remember seeing it. It looks like a star, but it isn't really. It's… Something else.

"Hey, Sammy boy," Dean says with a strange smile on his face, and I try to mimic it just out of courtesy. I can't lie and say that I'm not terrified to see him again. "Are you coming to rescue me? I kept my end of the deal… I didn't tell John you came to visit me a few days ago,” he says, shifting a little in his seat.

“I…”

"John went out again?" He interrupts me. "He ran out of holy water or something, right? Probably went to get more of the _blessed_ blood.  Son of a bitch…” He rolls his eyes and I frown without understanding what he’s talking about.

Dean always speaks in code… It doesn’t make the task of getting to know him something that’s easy to do.

"You ... Can you explain what you’re doing here, Dean? I mean… More details than you told me the other night.”

"Look, kiddo. I don't know what John told you about me, but it’s all bullshit. I'm not bad, I’m just…”

"Dad hasn't told me anything about you," I say and sit on the first wooden step. "That's why I want to know more.”

Dean raises his eyebrows and then huffs.

"Ouch. He really told you nothing about me? Damn, I thought we had something here. I was already starting to feel like a son to him, you know?” He pouts and I look at him confused, again, not knowing what to say. "Hunters, man. They are always insensitive sons of bitches."

I widen my eyes when I hear him speak like that, swearing a lot, and he laughs when he sees the expression on my face.

"Why’d it take you so long to come, huh? Did the big, bad demon scare you?”

"No," I lie and sit a little straighter. "Dad wasn't out, and I can't come here if he's home. He doesn't even let me out of my room when he's down here with you. I live locked up in my room most of the time.”

"Oh. I see. He’s got you in captivity too, huh?” he whispers thoughtfully. "John has serious problems."

After a silence that feels like it lasts too long, Dean speaks again.

"Your mom died, didn't she? In a fire, a couple of years ago?”

My fists clench on my lap where they rest and I nod my head without saying a single word.

"Your dad thinks I was the culprit," he says seriously, his expression suddenly angry. "Or that I know the demon responsible for that shit. Can you believe it?” He shakes his head and laughs again.

"Is that why he has you here?"

"Yep. And I have no idea about it, kiddo. I promise. But John doesn't want to believe me.”

"How long have you been locked up here?"

"I've already lost count. Weeks maybe? I just know that all of this has made me miss Alastair's torture chair in Hell. Even that dumbass didn't do the things your dad has done to me so far.”

Another silence invades the room and my mind is working a thousand miles an hour. I don't know what to think. I don’t know what to say. Demons cannot be real. Monsters don't exist. They only appear in movies, in comics. They’re not real!

"How old are you, Sam?"

“I'm 12, and you?”

Dean smiles and then shrugs. "I was 35 when I died."

Immediately my brow furrows and I look at him confused.

“You died?”

"I was human once." He pauses and then speaks again. “A long, long time ago. They punished me with a mark.” He looks at his arm and I get up from my spot to get a safe distance from the cage and see what he's talking about. Dean has a scar much like a number 7 on his forearm, it's… Weird. "It's called the Mark of Cain.”

“Cain? Like the one in the Bible that killed his brother?” I ask curiously, looking at his face. He smiles.

“Exactly. You’re a religious boy, huh Sammy?”

"When Mom was alive, we went to church on Sundays. I learned… A thing or two in Sunday school.”

"Well, Sam. Forget everything they taught you. That's pure bullshit too.” He winks at me and I look at his arm again with a frown.

"So… Did you die?"

“Well, as I was saying, they forced me to carry this Mark,which little by little turned me into a murderer. I died in an epic fight with an angel. And then… I woke up being what I am today.”

“A demon?”

"You learn fast, smart boy" he says amusedly, and it makes me laugh, although I immediately regret it and try to get back to my serious face. “Yes. I came back to life like a demon. But not just any regular demon”

“No?”

"I am a Knight of Hell. Created by the Mark of Cain and by Lucifer himself.”

Instinctively, I take a couple of steps back, backing away, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Hey, hey. Don't be scared by the name. The guy is an idiot. Even I'm scarier than him.”

“Are you bad?” I ask, unable to stop my words or resist my curiosity. Dean stares at me in silence.

"It depends." He purses his lips and shrugs.

“On what?”

"If you’re a jerk to me, then I will respond in kind and be a jerk to you."

"Will you hurt Dad if I help you to be free?"

Dean looks me straight in the eye and after opening his mouth, he closes it again and says nothing. I don't need to hear it, anyway. I’m a kid, but I understand the message.

"I... I... I need to go." I hesitate.

"Wait, then you won't help me out? I thought we had a deal, man!”

“I…"

“Listen. I just need you to make a crack on the ground, well on the paint. Here, on this beautiful drawing under my feet. I won’t ask for anything more. Just that,” he says, friendly, and I take a few steps back, moving a little further away. "Come on, Sammy. If you help me… I promise to help you back. You can’t lie to me. I know you don't like the life your dad is giving you. You miss your friends. Your mom… Your dad needs help. He can't get you involved in all this shit…”

“I- I can’t…"

“Just take one of those nails over there –” He jerks his chin at one of Dad's toolboxes. “You make a little crack in this fucking symbol and go back to your room. When John comes back I won't be here and you will never see me again. I swear.”

I look at the toolbox again, and after having a little internal fight with myself, I go over there – obeying as I always do – and grab one of the sharp nails from a plastic jar. I watch it in my hands and consider the options. If Dean is telling the truth, he’ll leave and Dad will no longer be obsessed with this whole issue. We can be happy again. Maybe we can even move to another place and I can go to school again. Have friends. A dog.

But if he’s lying… If Dean’s lying, I don't know what could happen.

I turn to the demon with the nail in my hands and he looks at me attentively and silent. Waiting for me to make a decision. I take a few steps until I’m near the bars of his metal cage and bend down to do what he asked me to. A crack in the drawing under his feet, thus ruining the perfect closed circle that contains a star inside and other symbols.

The work is done.

"That's my boy," Dean whispers in a cheery tone of voice, and I stand up again to look at him silently. "Thanks, Sammy. I'll be in your debt,” he says seriously, looking into my eyes as I throw the nail away.

Just when I'm about to ask him what he’ll do next and what the point was of asking me to do this, Dean’s eyes widen, suddenly turning black as he notices something behind me.

“Sam! Run!” he yells loudly, and when I take a scared step back, a strong hand grabs my shoulder, making me turn around. My heart almost leaps out of my chest.

Dad. Dad is here.

“What the fuck are you doing here, boy?! Can't you obey my fucking rules?!” he yells angrily, his alcohol-infused breath crashing into my face. I can't say a single word, can’t understand what's going on, when dad slaps me hard with his open hand. My face slams to the side, and I fall to the floor, hitting my head on a shelf next to it when I lose balance.

“I told you not to come down here! I told you to stay out of my business! I didn’t raise you to disobey my orders, Sam Winchester!”

Still confused and with my face burning from the blow of Dad's heavy hand, and the wooden corner that hit my forehead, I don't understand what is happening before my eyes. I blink several times trying to clear my disoriented state, but I can't. It hurts. It hurts a lot and I want to cry, like a scared little boy.

Out of nowhere, Dean's cage door slams open, causing an uproar, and somehow, he pulls on the chains and ropes on his legs and arms until they break. The demon gets up, free, walking straight towards my dad.

Everything is blurry below.

I touch my nose when I feel something hot and liquid coming out of it, and it scares me to see my fingers soaked with blood. My head hurts a lot. I think Dad's wedding ring hit my temple or something. I'm dizzy now, and I'm sleepy. Very sleepy and I want to throw up.

I hear voices, fighting sounds, screams, and curses. I try to watch the scene before me as I crawl backwards on the floor, until I reach the nearest wall where I support my back trying not to pass out. Dean is fighting with Dad. Dean lifts him up in the air with one hand, and out of nowhere, he buries a strange sword in his chest.

I scream like Dad probably does. I know that I’m screaming loudly and also crying, but I can't hear myself, I can't hear anything. It's like I’m suddenly deaf.

My head is spinning and my gray shirt is completely stained red from the blood that keeps flowing from my nose. Dean throws Dad to the floor. He doesn't move, dead. Dean killed Dad. He… Killed my dad.

I keep crying in terror even though I still don't hear my voice, and my heart races when I see Dean now approaching me. His face is blurry. Everything looks blurry and the room is spinning around me. I try to take refuge by hugging my legs and hiding my aching head so as not to see. Sound momentarily return to my ears.

Dean is going to kill me. He lied to me. Well, he actually didn't. He didn't answer when I asked him if he would hurt Dad if I released him… I was the fool who trusted him. It's my fault Dad is dead.

"Sam…”

“No!” I yell in the middle of my sobs. "I don't want to die! I don’t want…"

“Sam… Look at me.” I feel his hands in my hair but I don't raise my face. “Come on, you idiot, you're bleeding…”

When I raise my face to see Dean, the cold light from the lone bulb on the ceiling grows stronger and suddenly everything goes white.

To nothingness.

I stop hearing and stop feeling pain. Am I dead just like Mom and Dad?

Am I finally going to be with them?Will we be a happy family again?


	4. I pray the Lord my soul to keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, the drawings for kinktober I'm posting on twitter has taken all my time. Once again, thanks to @DeansBonnieSammysClyde for helping me correct my translations and encouraging me with her comments. Thanks also for all the great comments you guys have left me here, I'd love to reply to each one, but I'm not very good with words sometimes. I love knowing that you are liking this story. It makes me so happy! So now... Enjoy the chapter.

****

**June 8, 1995**

**Sam (12 years old)**

The constant sound of an engine makes me slowly open my eyes. At first, I have a hard time understanding where I am, what time it is, what happened. Why does my head hurt? Smells come second, my sight not yet completely clear; the environment smells of gasoline, tobacco, and the old leather of the Impala seats.

I'm in the Impala. In Dad's car?

I open my eyes again, shifting a little in the seat where I now know I am lying down, and through the windows I see that it is already night. The moon can be seen from where I’m laying and the stars follow our path. The highway lights flash by quickly outside.

When I turn around, my head hurts badly and a grunt of pain escapes my mouth. My throat immediately feels dry, and my eyes burn like I've been crying. Little by little, I begin to remember ...

“Rise and shine, _sleepyhead_. I thought you had died back there. That would have saved me a lot of work.”

Looking up, I see the back of a head of someone other than Dad and my heart races at the recognition of that red shirt and short dark blonde hair.

Dean.

Dean, the demon that was locked in my basement and that I clumsily helped to free and that later killed Dad.

My father. My Dad is dead and now I don't even know where his body is. Oh, God.

I sit up in the seat feeling fear overtake me and Dean looks at me through the rearview mirror, that smile on his lips that always makes him look so threatening.

"Don't do anything stupid and we can come to an agreement," he warns me in a voice that sounds cruel and manipulative, and I freeze in my place. What can I do? I can't jump out of a moving car... Can I?

“Where’s my dad? What did you do with him?” I ask fearfully and my voice cuts off at the same time that I feel my eyes fill with tears.

"He's resting in peace now, Sammy. You're welcome,” He winks at me. "Don't worry, they sure are welcoming him up there." He smirks now. "Do you wanna join his party?"

I swallow, pressing my back to the seat and I don't take my eyes off Dean's eyes and his stupid smile that is shown in the mirror. I feel like I want to throw up. I feel very sick and weak all of a sudden.

"Come on, Sammy. Just kidding. Although the offer is tempting if you think about it. I'll make it pretty quick... You won't even realize before you're with your mom that surely no longer smells like toast and your dad who no longer has the obsession of being a hunter in search of the truth.”

"I don't want to die," I say in a small voice, ignoring his cruel jokes. Tears run down my cheeks and I no longer care if he sees me cry. I'm scared. I want to go home. I want to close my eyes and make this all a lie. I need it to be a lie. "I don't want to die, Dean..." I repeat again as if that would work to wake me up.

Dean says nothing and turns his eyes to the road, sighing. He speeds on and the car roars as we go down a wide road I don't recognize. There are no houses, just trees and more trees.

"Does your head still hurt?" he asks after a while.

I frown, not understanding why the demon who just murdered my dad and kidnapped me is now interested in my well-being, so I wipe my cheeks with the sleeve of my hoodie without saying anything. Looking down at the car floor, I see that my backpack is here and that it looks pretty full. Dean packed my things?

“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to be calm although clearly I am not.

"I don't know," Dean shrugs. "I was going to leave you passed out at your house, but then I figured you'd wake up and tell the police everything that happened. You would say a demon named Dean killed your dad. They would surely blame you and lock you up in a madhouse... And, well, you're young for that shit. Your life already sucks to make it even worse.”

I roll my eyes and turn my gaze to see the moon outside. I hate Dean. I hate everything that comes out of his mouth. I hate him. I hate that way he treats me, like trash. As if my Dad's life hadn't been important to me. Tears keep streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks, but somehow I feel numb inside. As if this weren't true, as if it was just a crazy nightmare that I was going to wake up from at any moment. It feels very unreal.

"So you're going to kill me?"

"That was my plan."

"Why did you pack my things, then?"

There is a brief moment of silence and Dean sighs.

"Because it's one thing to kill adults who torture me, and quite another to... Kill a gullible little kid who saved my ass from two full weeks of torture." Dean pauses again and I see his reflection in the rear view mirror. His face looks expressionless now. "I told you I owed you one. I'm a demon, but I keep my promises. I’m obliged to do so.”

"So... you're just going to take me with you?”

"If you keep asking shitty questions, I'm gonna stop the fucking car and leave you here, in the middle of nowhere, to be eaten by the coyotes. They would do the dirty work for me. Sound like a better plan?”

I force myself not to say anything and sigh, feeling tired again. Dean looks away from the rear view mirror and looks back down the road.

The moment of silence is interrupted by the radio that he turns on and one of Dad's favorite songs begins to play. _Highway to Hell_ by _AC / DC_. Dean starts humming as he continues to drive and hits the wheel to the beat of the song. I don’t want to keep arguing with him, so I lie back where I was before, in a fetal position looking at the back of the seat in front of me, hugging my knees together to my chest.

I close my eyes and begin to pray. Just like Mom taught me when I was little. Maybe it will help, maybe not.

_Now I lay me down to sleep,_

_I pray the Lord my soul to keep;_

_If I should die before I wake,_

_I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen._

After a few minutes repeating the prayer over and over, listening to the purr of the engine and the soft music in the background, the fatigue and anguish overwhelm me and I fall asleep again.

***

When I wake up, the sound of the car is gone and my body is comfortably lying on a bed. Warm. Less sore.

I sit up quickly on the mattress and look around me. I’m in a room that I don’t recognize. Red and blue lights come through the only window with half-closed curtains and Dean drinks silently sitting at a table next to it, looking at a journal. The journal that used to be Dad's. His legs are crossed and his feet are on the chair in front of him. He looks relaxed.

When he notices that I’ve woken up, he puts the empty glass on the table and closes the journal with its leather cover, setting it aside.

"If you keep fainting, I'll have to take you to a damn hospital," he says, sounding pissed off, as if he really hates me with all his soul.

_Well, if he has one._

"I was just asleep," I say curtly and Dean lowers his feet from the chair, turning a bit in his seat to get a better look at me.

"Does your head still hurt?"

“Why do you care so much?”

"Wow. Easy, Tiger. I'm just trying to be nice here.”

"Nice after you killed my Dad?"

"Hey, I freed you from that jerk." He points his finger at me. "The asshole almost knocked your head off with that fucking blow he gave you. You could have an aneurysm now.”

“I can’t have an aneurysms from a simple slap."

Dean rolls his eyes and I know I'm pissing him off, but I don't care. I don't care what he does anymore. I reached my limit.

"You know a lot for a 12-year-old boy."

"And you know little to be a demon that has lived so long," I answer, just as ironic as him.

Dean lets out a laugh, shaking his head, and gets up from his chair. I lean back against the headboard and stare at him with wide eyes, terrified when his eyes turn completely black again. My heart races when he comes to stand next to my bed and smiles.

"Stop wearing my patience, Sam Winchester."

I watch him silently and Dean blinks back to normal, his eyes green again.

“I-”

"Did I say you could talk?" he interrupts me, and I shake my head, still motionless in my place.

Another stab of pain makes me hiss and I frown as I touch my forehead. It hurts... It hurts a lot.

“Oh, damnit!” The demon snorts. "I'll go get some painkillers, if you escape from here while I'm gone, it's your decision."

Without saying anything else, Dean takes his wallet from the table, which he surely recovered after killing Dad, and leaves the room, leaving me with a thousand doubts in mind and no answer.

I don't know where we are, or what options I have if I escape. Where could I go? No one would believe me if I said that a demon killed my dad and that now he has kidnapped me. They would say that I am a freak, a stupid, lying kid. One who is making up crazy lies. I don't have a plan B. Also, I have been locked in a room for weeks, what is the difference in staying locked up?

After several minutes of just laying back on the bed, crying and thinking, I wince when I hear the door open and see Dean walking in with a plastic bag in his hands. His eyes immediately fix on mine and although I can tell that he wants to hide it, a smile that looks like relief is drawn on his lips.

"Honey, I'm home," he says jokingly, but I don't answer or say anything.

He pulls a box of medicine out of the plastic bag and tosses it to me on the bed. Then he does the same with a bottle of water, and finally with some cereal bars.

"I'm not an animal for you to throw food at me," I say annoyed, but I just make him laugh.

"Take those painkillers and eat something, that will definitely fix that mood of yours." He winks at me and I see him walk towards the table where he had been before. Dean takes the last item out of the bag out and I frown as he pulls out a little plastic box with a cherry pie slice and a bottle of beer. Do demons eat?

I turn my attention to the painkillers on the bed and open it to take a pill and try to drink it with the water.

My eyes fill with tears again when I can't. I haven’t yet learned how to swallow whole pills, Dad would always break them or dissolve them in water for me. Embarrassed, and feeling like an useless little child, I take the pill out of my mouth and hide it in my hand.

“You're good?” Dean's voice makes me look at him and I see the pill wet with my saliva in my hand. Somehow Dean notices it. "Can't you swallow it?"

I shake my head without daring to look at him. He's going to laugh at me again.

I hear a snort and Dean's footsteps approaching the bed. I look up at him as he takes the box and takes a new pill out of the package. He puts it on the bedside table next to the bed and with the television remote control, he gives it a gentle tap and breaks the medicine into three small parts, picking them up and offering them to me without saying anything.

I look at him ashamed as I take the broken pieces and put them one by one in my mouth, swallowing them easily with the help of the water. Dean just silently walks away when he sees I'm done and sits in his chair to eat his pie and drink his beer again.

"Thank you," I whisper and he looks at me silently. Then he turns his attention back to Dad's journal and the pie he's attacking with a plastic fork.

After a few minutes, the painkiller takes away my headache and I fall asleep once again without fear of what might happen while unconscious. Dean is a demon, and he terrifies me... But... For some reason... I don't think he wants to kill me.


End file.
